


this artificial love (that became genuine)

by daehwipped



Category: Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One
Genre: M/M, Panwink Fic Fest, i love panwink, idk what I did, there's a minhyun cameo (?) too, written in guanlin's perspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 07:39:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12649122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daehwipped/pseuds/daehwipped
Summary: Guanlin really needs a fake boyfriend.Or alternatively, how Jihoon ended up quitting his job as one.





	this artificial love (that became genuine)

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my work for Panwink Fic Festival, based on sentence #2! 
> 
> Don't learn from Guanlin, think before you speak.
> 
> It's often the human mouth that causes catastrophic damages.

Don't say stupid things.

That's what Guanlin learned when he found himself facing three girls, cornering him against the cold, hard, metallic surface of his locker. The three girls looked almost identical, with their impeccably made up faces caked thickly with powder and plastic, fake eyelashes poorly stuck to their real ones.

"You really have a boyfriend, Guanlin?" One of them asks in her overly high pitched voice, causing the boy to wince.

"Yes, I do. Please leave me alone." His hand reaches up instinctively to rub his ears, damaged from the frequency level of their voices while smiling stoically, although all he wanted to do was to bat those girls away with a sweep of his long, gangly arms. He loathed the attention the school had on him. Sure, he was from Taiwan and sure, he admits he's not bad looking, but do some people really have to go to the extent of bothering him daily?

Guanlin doesn't think so.

At most, he gained a few genuine friends from the attention. Take Daehwi, for example. Nice boy, cheerful and cute, and even cuter with the boy Jinyoung by his side. Why couldn't everyone be like him? 

(Okay, maybe not that extent. The world would be boring.)

The thing is, Guanlin is beyond screwed now. He walks away from the girls and dials a number numbly.

"Hello?"

"Daehwi? I'm screwed."

 

-

 

"So let me get this straight." Daehwi now perches on Guanlin's unmade bed, legs crossed and the usual smile on his face gone, now replaced with grim, firm-set lips.

"You told the girls that you have a boyfriend. And now you actually have to find one, because girls being girls, are going to stalk you and find out the truth, and you're ultimately more screwed." 

Guanlin thinks that no one can ever summaries his current dilemma better than Daehwi does. 

"Yes."

Daehwi rests his hands down, and bites down on his lips, hard. Guanlin was momentarily confused until he heard a soft snicker escape from him.

"Daehwi!"

Daehwi releases his peals of laughter now, doubling over and clapping. He resembles a otter clapping, which, was adorable, but not so adorable considering that he was cackling at Guanlin's misery now.

"Oh, you stupid child." He wipes a stray tear that escaped from his eyes.

Guanlin gave him a glare. He knows it won't intimidate the boy, but every inch of his body was glaring at Daehwi through his pores, so he had to glare.

"The thing is, what do I do now?" Guanlin wails, allowing himself to fall into his bed, limbs outstretched.

"Well, I might have a plan, but it's really stupid, like you, so I think it'll help."

Again, Guanlin glared at the elder with increased intensity. Despite his burning hate for Lee Daehwi right now, he's more then desperate to save himself, so he listens, and subsequently agrees to Daehwi's plans. It sounds promising, and Guanlin was struck with a ray of hope. 

He bids Daehwi farewell that day with a smile.

 

-

 

Guanlin's bony fingers hover hesitantly over the dial pad of the phone.

A post-it crumbles under the pressure of his grip on the other hand, where a few numbers are scrawled over the neon pink colour of the paper.

To call, or not to call.

Guanlin recalls himself agreeing to this plan, and wonders how stupid can he get further in his life. Calling a boyfriend hotline is unrealism at its finest, yet why did he agree to do this? 

Thinking back, it was all because he told the girls that he had a boyfriend.

Guanlin truly suspects his intelligence decreasing by the day, because why the hell did he say that, out of all things that could be said to reject girls? He should really consult Minhyun one day, who rejected many without breaking a single heart.

Nonsense. He knows exactly why he said that, but his pride refuses to accept the ugly truth.

Guanlin has never been a confident person throughout his life. There was always doubt and a whole army of "what-ifs" brewing in the deep crack of his brain somewhere, and it results to him either rejecting, or being rejected. Maybe less of the latter, and Guanlin thinks he's doing a favour to humanity by rejecting people. Sure, he looks chic and cool from the outside, but once you dig in? He's really just a lazy, normal boy who happens to be awkwardly tall, the type of guys you can see on the streets in every few minutes.

And he hates it.

He hates how someone's face would just twist up in disappointment, their lips pursing, and their voice strained, before abandoning him to find others better than him. His longest friend so far was Daehwi, and Guanlin can declare with utmost assurance that he will take a bullet for him. 

He just can't help it. He's a boring kid inside. 

 

Which was why, he chose to reject instead of being rejected. It made him look less like a loser, and Guanlin would rather have Cerberus as a pet instead of letting anyone into his dark mansion of Highly Confidential thoughts, where one of the most handsome boys in school is reduced to a insecure, dull kid.

Guanlin realises with a start that he really wanted to have a boyfriend. Someone, anyone, who can just take him into their arms and hug him like he's their everything, who looks at him the way someone looks at fireworks exploding into the ink-black sky, mesmerised, and tell him that it's okay to be insecure and doubt yourself over your weaknesses. His feels his chest tighten painfully at the mere thought that he might not even find a significant other.

So that was what it was about, him spewing that he had a boyfriend.

 

Daehwi's words rang through his mind again, and this time, Guanlin accepts begrudgingly that he is, indeed, a stupid child.

 

"What's there to lose? Come on, Lai, you can do this." He whispers to himself, finally pressing down on the round circles of the numbers, before putting it on speaker. It took approximately three rings before the owner of the fine establishment (Read: the boyfriend hotline) picks up.

 

"Hello, this is a boyfriend hotline, how may I be of service?"

"Uh hi. I need a boyfriend."

 

-

 

It never once occurred to Guanlin that he had the authority to choose from pages and pages of boys.

Everybody seemed so perfect visual wise, and blood types mean nothing to Guanlin, so he sits in a office chair, dazed and light headed, flipping through the laminated booklet of choices once again.

"Sir, if you're a hard time, do you mind if I recommend one to you?" The boy at the reception suggests in his soothing voice, a slight smile (smirk?) gracing his face as he reaches over to flip the booklet, before pausing and tapping on one of the nine boys on the page.

"Park Jihoon?" Guanlin pronounces the foreign name slowly, squinting at the small, printed korean font.

"He's one of our most experienced boys here. I can take you to see him, if you want, he's here today." Smirk boy offered.

Guanlin decides that his life is already a tangled mess anyways, and there's nothing to lose if you don't have anything left, so he agrees.

 

He really, really should stop agreeing.

 

Smirk boy leads him to a small, cramped lift nearby and pokes at the metallic "3" button.

"So, tell me. Why do you need a fake boyfriend?" Judging from his voice, Guanlin can tell that he probably asked almost every customer that. Probably that employee who worked for years and knows all the legends and stories.

"I said something I shouldn't." Right, that'll settle it. Smirk boy nods in understanding and wiggles his eyebrows, just as the lift doors creaked open.

"That's what our establishment was made for. Too many misunderstood heartbreaks, and too short of a life to wait for another true love." Guanlin takes his time and sinks in the sentence silently, while applauding the boy for being an intellectual. The both of them walk down a hall with polished, brown marble floors. A few nondescript white doors lined the walls and Guanlin wonders how long they'll be walking, because the hall seems endless, when Smirk boy stops abruptly at one of the doors.

Guanlin looks up at the slip of paper taped onto the door.

"Park Jihoon."

He gulps, palms suddenly sweaty. What if this Jihoon guy was secretly a psycho? An axe murderer? What if he hated Guanlin's guts? Guanlin immediately devices an escape route with his wide eyes darting around, just in case.

"Oi, Jihoon, here's your newest client, be nice." Smirk boy calls out, and turns away to leave, but not before giving Guanlin a few friendly pats on the back.

Guanlin takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with the scent of roses that wafted through the air. The scent does help him to calm his jittery nerves, and he steps in, much more composed and he was five seconds ago.

 

The first thing that hits him was the brightness of the room. No, not from the opened windows, but from a god, standing in the middle of the room.

 

Guanlin's breathless.

 

He had seen a fair share of pretty people throughout the seventeen years of his life, but this? The boy was beautiful, at the least, and Guanlin fails to find a suitable description of the boy's beauty.

God, he could even make Aphrodite jealous.

And Guanlin's sure that he is an immortal, because normal humans do not have the entire observable universe in the small circumference of their pupils. Normal humans do not have small, smooth, naturally gradient lips that's literally screaming "kiss me kiss me kiss me", and normal humans do not have such wonderful skin, and when the shafts of light that escaped through the window hits it, it absorbs their glow, making Jihoon's face illuminate with a halo. 

"Hi, I'm Park Jihoon."

 

Guanlin struggles to control his body again, and his brain tells him to calm down, and breathe, (when did he stop breathing?) and greet this boy back. His heart, however, starts shrieking about how manly and sweet Jihoon's voice sounds, like warm honey-persimmon tea, and Guanlin wants to drown himself in that. 

 

"Hi, I'm Lai Guanlin, nice to meet you." Guanlin praises himself for not stuttering, especially in front of Park Jihoon, the newest winner of "Most Beautiful Human Being" in Guanlin's rankings.

"I heard you needed a fake boyfriend?" Jihoon continues, smiling idly. Guanlin almost jumped at the sudden upturn of his lips. He really needed to calm down, or at this rate, he might die of a sudden heart attack when the real "boyfriend" act occurs, and Guanlin would like to live on.

"Yes, that's right."

"May I have your number? So that we can communicate better!" Jihoon's voice rose in pitch at the second sentence, and wow that was so cute he's excited, but Guanlin wonders why an experienced fake boyfriend would be excited over exchanging numbers with a normal boy like him.

Guanlin keys his number into Jihoon's phone swiftly, and let out a small yelp when their fingers brushed together— they burned, and while it wasn't exactly a pleasant sensation, he felt a trail of sparks tracing from his fingertips into his stomach, and fizzled there.

 

Guanlin sudden felt weak.

 

"I'll see you sometime soon, then? Tell me whenever you're free!" Jihoon now flashes him a smile, white teeth bared and the ends of his lips curling up, and Guanlin wants to fling himself in a 30 feet deep hole and never come out again.

 

Later that day, he comes to a conclusion that he's possibly allergic to Park Jihoon.

 

-

 

"Guanlin?" Jihoon's voice buzzes through his phone. Guanlin jolts, his sleepy, drooped lids snapping open at the voice.

"Yes?" He manages to croak out, wincing at how raw his voice sounds, like he just had a hangover. Why couldn't he have a voice like Jihoon's? Guanlin pouts silently at the sheer unfairness of it all.

Jihoon seems unaffected by it, only pausing for a moment before addressing right to the point— how they should arrange another day to meet up soon. Guanlin multitasks through the conversation, internally screaming about how Jihoon's voice sounds so utterly perfect over the phone, while he sounded like a half dead iguana. 

The call ends with Jihoon wishing Guanlin a good night's sleep, and he doesn't miss how the elder purposely (habitually?) adds a tiny bit of a cute sound effect, much like what gudetama would do. He knows this from Jaehwan, who'll be beyond happy, knowing that Guanlin actually paid attention to the episodes of gudetama he had put on.

 

Guanlin screams, his cries of pain muffled by his pillow. He should really go consult a doctor about his allergy to Park Jihoon soon. 

-

 

"Sweetie, you are not wearing that." Daehwi gasps at the sight of the shirt Guanlin pulls out from his pile of clean clothes.

"Why not?" Guanlin's tone came out more wounded than he'd like it to be, especially around their older boy. Daehwi does not care, to say the least, about others' feelings at times (except for Jinyoung) and relishes in their misery (again, except for Jinyoung). 

Daehwi dismissed Guanlin's question with a careless wave of his hand, and bends down to snatch up another combination of clothes from the pile.

"Try this on." It wasn't a suggestion, but an order, and Guanlin knew better than to disobey it. It has been an hour since the duo first started to pick out clothes for the latter, with Daehwi waltzing into his house, shrieking incoherently. 

Guanlin wonders why he found himself in the midst of sobbing to Daehwi about how fatally beautiful Park Jihoon is on the phone. Presently, Daehwi has dubbed himself as Guanlin's fashion advisor, and is clapping like a seal again.

 

"Amazing! This is it!" Daehwi exclaims, flailing his arms around.

 

Guanlin looks down. He did look decent, he supposed, with the skinny jeans outlining his long legs, and the shirt giving him a somewhat casual and swaggy feel, like a effortless fashionista, and not like a anxious boy who was going to meet with his "boyfriend" in exactly one hour, twenty two minutes and forty five seconds later. 

 

"Now for your hair! Stay still, alright?" Another order.

 

Guanlin almost chuckles at the statement. Staying still was his forte, his one and only talent. It may be because he's too lazy to conjure up the energy to move his long limbs around, or that he thinks he looks best still— it often had a somewhat intimidating effect on people.

Daehwi sets the tub of hair gel down onto Guanlin's study table, and swivels his chair to inspect the boy. Another bright smile breaks out onto his face, and Guanlin decides that if, a certain Park Jihoon doesn't exist on the earth, Daehwi's smile would be a suitable replacement if the sun died. 

"My boy, you look absolutely tantalising!!" Guanlin frowns at the adjective.

 

"I'm not out to be eaten for dinner, but thanks." Daehwi purses his lips and nods, before slinging his backpack over his shoulders and heads for the door.

"You're leaving?" Guanlin chases after Daehwi, tripping over air mid-way.

"No, dude, I'm going to accompany you to your date to make sure you don't die. Jinyoung's busy today, anyways." Daehwi wipes at an imaginary tear. Guanlin feels mushy inside, after hearing the older boy, and knowing that he's his second priority after Jinyoung. It must be the atmospheric pollution that caused it. He will never admit to being soft for his best friend.

Throughout the journey to the cafe, though, Daehwi constantly rambled about how Jinyoung ditched him, his boyfriend, for a friend who's apparently "helplessly in love" and needs some serious counselling, as he called it. Unless his friend was like Guanlin, who happens to be helplessly in love, Daehwi accuses Jinyoung for abandoning his priorities.

But now, Guanlin finds it hard to breathe again, and there are three great reasons why he's abusing his lungs.

One, Park Jihoon is standing less then a metre away from him.  
Two, Park Jihoon is in a pastel pink sweater.  
Three, Bae Jinyoung is standing behind Park Jihoon, a surprised look on his face.

Daehwi jumps and lunges at Jinyoung, smushing his face into the crook of Jinyoung's neck, and both boys tangle each other up in an embrace, smiles and warmth and all, and Guanlin would have cooed at the scene if not for Park Jihoon.

The elder looked so small and petite, drowning in the oversized pink sweater, and Guanlin just wants to wrap him up in a hug and shower kisses on his face, and he hates how fast his heart is thumping against his ribcage, threatening to shatter the bones at any time, with his blood rushing to his forehead and ears, making his vision blind with white spots, and he shudders.

He silently concludes that he's officially dying from his stupid allergy.

"Hello!!" Jihoon chirps, waving at him, and Guanlin could officially decease right at that moment, because how could someone be so cute while waving? Again, a sign that proves that Jihoon is immortal.

"Hi." Guanlin allows Jihoon to drag him to a random seat, and a waiter appears next to them.

"Anything for you, sir?"

"A slice of red velvet cake for me, please." Jihoon directs his smile at the waiter, who momentarily looks dazed, and Guanlin could relate so painfully to him.

"How about you, sir?" Guanlin asks for a glass of iced tea, and perhaps some medication too, he wants to add.

"So." Jihoon starts.

Guanlin sits back and observes the elder fiddle with his sweater paws.

"So, I just wanted to clear some, um, administrative things and get to know you a little better." Jihoon smiles again, this time bashfully, a light dusting of blush over his cheekbones. Guanlin nods numbly, gesturing for him to continue whatever explanation that follows.

"Firstly, I understand that you go to school? Is there a need to register me in the school, because some clients do require that." Jihoon's all business now, an expressionless face on, reflecting Guanlin's.

"Actually, yes. I'll handle that, I can help you notify the teacher, but you have to fill in some form online on our school's website." Jihoon acknowledges this.

"Okay, I think that's all." Jihoon mumbles, and Guanlin frowns again, because a bubble of doubt starts rising from his stomach, and his brain tells him that something's off, but he can't place a finger on where.

By the end of the day, Guanlin learns many things about Jihoon, like how he's actually two years older, and how his wink can destroy the earth. In turn, he tells Jihoon about his quirks and habits, his likes, his dislikes, and Guanlin thinks that it's his second best day of his life.

The best day of his life? It has yet to come, but Guanlin knows that he has a chance, and he'll never let go of it, even if that meant going through hell and storms. He hasn't thanked Daehwi and Jinyoung, who very nicely collected him once his date was over, just to bombard him with "Oh my god, you're both in love with each other!"

Turns out, Jihoon's the friend that Jinyoung had to help. 

And he's helplessly in love with the person he's meeting that day.

Who was Guanlin.

Oh.

Oh.

 

-

 

The week flies by in a flurry, with Guanlin meeting up with Jihoon to tell him that he could come anytime he'd liked to school now, and that he'll be one grade above Guanlin. The two had became closer to a considerable amount, judging from the 'natural skinship and cute, genuine giggles', as Daehwi liked to say. 

Guanlin hopes that was true.

Sure, Jinyoung could reassure Guanlin for the zillionth time that Jihoon liked him, and it wasn't only the younger who felt light headed whenever he sees him, that Jihoon ranted to him that his new 'boyfriend' was driving him mad, but Guanlin can't seem to lock the dark, lurking, thoughts away into the abyss.

If love was what he feels for Park Jihoon, then it came along with insecurity like a 1 for 1 deal in the supermarket.

At this rate, even the ever calm Jinyoung would be pissed at the repetitive questions he asks him everyday. And Daehwi would be after him with a chainsaw in his arms.

 

Guanlin shudders at the thought.

 

Which explains why he now sits on his bed, balancing a pen, with his table lamp switched on and a notebook laid out on his lap. Guanlin looks at what he has written so far, in his stupor.

"How to get Park Jihoon to reciprocate his feelings: A self written guide"

Not bad. At least the title couldn't be more accurate.

Guanlin dips his head down again, scribbling down whatever ideas that popped into his mind.

"Step 1: Get all mushy with Jihoon in school.  
Step 2: Get him to love you.  
Step 3: Confess and kiss him."

Not bad. 

Not bad at all, for a guide to failure.

 

-

 

The weekends pass by quicker than Guanlin would've liked it to be, because he desperately needed time to plan details out, all by himself. It's either that, or do homework and die when Monday comes.

Guanlin hates Mondays, including this one.

He has circled the tiny number in his calendar for no less than ten times, reason being that it was The Day that Park Jihoon Will Officially Be In His School. And Guanlin's anything but prepared to see Jihoon in his uniform. Screw Ivy Club. It always had the magic to make people look better.

And so, he nearly passes away from the lack of oxygen when he caught a glimpse of Jihoon. He looked so wonderfully stunning, and god, what is Ivy Club doing, why haven't they hired Jihoon to become their model?

Unfortunately, being stunning had a price to pay. 

Guanlin weaves through the crowd of squealing girls, spotting the three who harassed him, and reaches Jihoon. He looks scared, like an intimidated puppy, and Guanlin suppresses the urge to bury him in his hugs right there and then. 

He didn't have to.

Jihoon turns ever so slightly, and wraps his arms around Guanlin's waist, his arm brushing against the slightly exposed area around his stomach, and hides his face in Guanlin's chest. 

Guanlin tunes out the shouts and shrieking, and his mind is blank, because there was Park Jihoon, holding him close, and every area of contact they shared fizzled, sparks flying everywhere. Guanlin feels dizzy again, and his nose and lungs stop functioning properly, and his body is generally reacting extensively towards Jihoon.

They finally break apart when a teacher comes stomping down the hall, dispersing the wild crowd. Both Guanlin and Jihoon are flushed and pink, and Guanlin knows two more things about himself.

 

One, his skin doesn't feel like skin when Jihoon's touch leaves him, and two, he has a ticking bomb in his heart, and he has to make Jihoon his.

 

Before it goes off.

 

-

 

"Guanlin!" Daehwi's voice rings through the empty classroom.

 

Guanlin glances up, and sees Jinyoung with Daehwi, hand in hand.

 

"Are you guys here to announce your marriage?" He teases lazily, stretching his stiff body. Jinyoung blushes a deep red, while Daehwi hits him gently, but the joy couldn't be mistaken in his eyes.

"If only. Anyways, we're here on behalf of a coward named Jihoon— he wants to invite you to lunch with him." Daehwi's grin is not unlike one of a Cheshire Cat's, and Guanlin senses something more underneath the kind invitation. 

Again, he can't put his finger on what, so he allows himself to be dragged by the two boys.

He inwardly groans when the two hoist him up the stairs to the rooftop, and Guanlin has seen enough dramas to know that the rooftop is never a good thing. You either die, or reject, or confess, and he's not in the mood to do any of those. Maybe someday later.

Jihoon, however, is an actual saint, and has prepared a whole picnic for them. Guanlin wants to scream about how he's suffering to see this angel being all lovely and cute without being able to make him his, and he almost does that if not for Daehwi's glare, reminding him that it's lunch time, and lunch should never be occupied by these trivial things.

He would choose food over crushes anytime.

Guanlin discovers later, when lunch ends, that it's possible to fall deeper in love while munching (or choking) on a sandwich, especially when Park Jihoon is feeding him, and he could barely look up to meet the elder's eyes due to the redness flourishing on his face. 

Jinyoung and Daehwi snicker.

 

-

Guanlin now stands awkwardly, in the middle of nowhere, as he squints around for a glimpse of Jihoon. 

They had both worked out a date that day, to catch the latest Marvel movie (both of them loved Iron Man with a passion), and panic starts to seep slowly into Guanlin's veins, because Jihoon was four minutes late, and the possibility that he might have been stood up crashes onto him like a lead brick. It all dissipates, thankfully, when a familiar figure come stumbling and rushing through the sea of people towards him.

"Whoa, slow down there. I wouldn't want you falling." Guanlin reaches out to steady the elder, and upon closer inspection, Jihoon's hair was tousled in all directions, which was, admittedly, quite a look on him, and pink, flushed cheeks, probably from running. Jihoon shoots him an apologetic smile before patting his hair down.

"Sorry, Guanlin. I kind of woke up late today." The explanation follows with a pout, and Guanlin ignores the blood rushing to his ears from the action. 

"That's fine. But what are you wearing?" Guanlin clamps a hand to his mouth at his own words, horrified by the betrayal of his own tongue. Sure, Jihoon wasn't exactly dressed well— a pink and blue checkered jacket did not match with a yellow-striped green shirt, and to some extent, it might be a sore to some eyes, but it was downright rude to mention that. 

"Hey! Don't insult my fashion sense, it's obviously too complex for a kid like you to understand." Jihoon snaps playfully, a smile lingering on his lips, and Guanlin relaxes his tense shoulder slightly. He chides himself never to say anything of the sort again, and subsequently wonders if he's the first one to slander his own crush like that. 

"Anyways, did you get the ticket yet? How about the food?" Guanlin holds up the plastic tub of popcorn along with two cups of soft drinks, as well as two damp movie tickets. It's one of the pros of having long arms and large hands. Jihoon grabs the tickets and his drink, exclaiming happily when he sees that it's his beloved sprite. Guanlin's work again, of course. Jihoon had told him exactly once that he loved sprite— Guanlin had made it a point to remember it, for future uses. It proves to be useful.

The two head their way into one of the many theatres, and Guanlin duly notes that there aren't many people watching it. A strange occurrence, considering the popularity of Marvel movies. They plop down on their seats, and Guanlin shoves a single piece of popcorn into Jihoon's mouth, quirking his eyebrow at the blush forming on his cheeks. He swivels his eyes into the elder's direction again to confirm, only to be interrupted by the dimming of lights.

No words are further exchanged between them as the movie proceeds on, with Guanlin feeling random bursts of adrenaline at the effects of the movie, until a loud, sleazy voice slices through.

 

"You, can you move? I can't see with your damn body blocking my view." Guanlin whips around, the suspicion that whoever said that might be referring to him churning in him. He comes face to face with a middle aged man, bald, with stubble dotting his chin, and his lips set straight in a firm, cruel line, staring at him. Guanlin's at a loss for words, until the man sends a kick to his chair, causing him to jerk away.

"What are you staring at, huh? Yes, I'm talking to you, can't you move already? Stupid boy-" He sneers. Guanlin concludes that he must be a man of short height, from the fact that he can't see even though he sits on a row above him— then again, Guanlin observes that the rows aren't really much higher than the one before. He nods, scrambling to another seat beside Jihoon, who's strangely silent all this while. The movie continues to play, and the guilt in Guanlin dies down after a few minutes.

That is, until the lights are back on, and people slowly stream out of the movie theatre, and there aren't many people left behind, including Jihoon, Guanlin, and the man behind them. Guanlin tugs at Jihoon's sleeves tentatively, signalling the elder to get up and go, before the man finds them any other trouble, but Jihoon seems to shake his hand off before standing up and facing the man. Guanlin winces, from the intensity of Jihoon's glare, and the trembling of his fists which are curled tightly at his sides.

 

"Apologise to my boyfriend." Jihoon spits, voice cold and full of venom.

 

The man visibly shudders, before mumbling a half-sincere apology, and scampers away, but not before sticking up a middle finger at Jihoon (or was it at Guanlin?). Guanlin snorts and pulls an still fuming Jihoon out of the movie theatre, and into the mall again. The silence between them was uncomfortable, with Guanlin squirming and Jihoon staring straight, the fire in his eyes still blazing.

"Jihoon, don't be angry-" Guanlin begins.

"Guanlin, don't be upset. That man was being unreasonable, alright? Don't let his words get to your head, got it?" Jihoon's forehead is now crinkled with lines of worry, and his eyes imploring. Guanlin nods mutely.

"Guanlin, I-I'm sorry, I didn't stand up for you in time. God, if only he actually apologised more sincerely- ugh." Jihoon runs a careless hand through his hair, and huffs at the unpleasant memory. Guanlin catches his hand in his, and brings Jihoon closer to himself by encircling his arms around him and pulling him into an embrace. He dips his head into the crook of Jihoon's neck, allowing his lips to smile against the skin there. It doesn't take long before he feels Jihoon's arms tightening around his hips, his body completely enraptured by the large frame of Guanlin.

 

"I just don't want you to be hurt." Jihoon whispers, a tinge of sadness present.

 

"I know. You tried your best, besides I didn't pay much attention to what he said." Guanlin's hands run up and down Jihoon's back, as if consoling the elder that he was truly fine.

 

It was an endearing sight— two boys hugging in the middle of a mall, whispering sweet nothings to each other. Guanlin secretly wishes that it would last forever.

 

-

 

It isn't until a few days later when Guanlin feels the need to address his dilemma. But that can wait for now, because Jihoon is slumped on one of the tables in his empty classroom, and from the door, Guanlin can see his shoulders shaking. It doesn't take long before he realises with a start that Jihoon's crying, and he barges into the classroom.

"Jihoon?" He calls out softly, resting a comforting hand on those shoulders when the boy doesn't reply. It seems to have a positive effect, from how Jihoon stops letting out whimpers, and lifts his hidden face instead. Guanlin's startled for a moment, his eyes fixated on Jihoon's tear stained face, his eyes swirling with sadness and brimmed with red. It's the first time Guanlin has seen this side of Jihoon, and unlike his usual demeanour, he could sense the doubt, the unconfidence emanating from him. Guanlin has been there, and isn't a stranger to the pain of these two inflicted. 

It's Jihoon who's hurting right now, but why does Guanlin feel like every inch of his body is being torn apart from the inside, tissue by tissue? Why is his skull numb, with his mind urging him to wrap Jihoon in a hug? Why does he want to press his lips to those tears and kiss them away? He finds himself wishing fervently for a smile to appear on his face, and he hates the tears on Jihoon so much. They don't deserve to be rolling down on a face made for smiling. Amidst all these thoughts, Guanlin's limbs function on their own, walking over to Jihoon's side and snaking one arm around his waist, the other arm bringing his head down to rest on Guanlin's shoulder, and stays there, allowing the both of them to bask in their own bittersweet universe.

"I," Jihoon begins, his voice trembling. 

"I was teased for being short and stout. And ugly, that's all, really." Guanlin grits his teeth together at Jihoon's words, a wave of nausea hitting him, and he feels the bile rise up to his throat. It was pure nonsense, how in the world is Jihoon stout and ugly? Short, maybe, but he liked how the other could easily rest his head on his chest. 

"Jihoon, no. You're not stout and ugly, and you aren't considered short either. You're beautiful, just the way you are- remember last time in the movie theatre? 'Don't let their nonsense get to you' right?" Guanlin slips his fingers underneath Jihoon's wet chin, brushing the tears away, and lifts it up gingerly, such that Jihoon was looking straight into his eyes. Guanlin watches as something stirs in those brown orbs of Jihoon's, before settling down, and the faintest glimmer returns to its home.

 

"Thank you, Guanlin." He murmurs, a genuine, raw smile directed at him.

 

-

 

Guanlin's beyond confused, and Park Jihoon's responsible.

"What's the difference between a crush and love?" Daehwi muses aloud, not bothering to repress the smirk formed on his face. Guanlin groans inwardly, burying his face in his hands.

"Why did I call you over again?" Daehwi huffs at this, jabbing an accusatory finger at Guanlin. It's supposed to be intimidating, if anything, but Daehwi just looks cute with those puffed out cheeks of his. 

"You always do! I'm the one who has to suffer from your emotional constipation." Guanlin accepts it grudgingly, and pushes away the sense of guilt creeping into his mind. Daehwi's signed himself up for all these when he became Guanlin's best friend. It's ought to happen.

"Anyways, you don't feel The Urge with crushes. You won't feel like kissing them all day, every day, whenever you see them. You don't find every single inch of their face beautiful, and you won't feel like your heart's being split into two halves.

But love, love is something so much more. Their flaws are so perfectly flawless, and you're burning everyday to just kiss the hell out of them, because at this point, there's no other way to express your love for them. When they cry, your heart breaks— them being sad makes you experience so much pain inside. It's just- it's just like you can't live without them." 

Silence envelops the two boys, and Guanlin mulls over Daehwi's words. He thinks back to the million times where he casts his eyes on Jihoon's face, mapping them out in the blank canvas of his brain, and wondering how someone could be so beautiful. He thinks back to the times he's used every will in his body to stop himself from kissing Jihoon, because his heart's overflowing with too many emotions, and kissing seemed like the only way to express them. He thinks back to the day, where Jihoon cried, and he could barely hold himself up from the aching and throbbing of his body upon the sight, and it seemed to Guanlin that they could feel each other's pain through telepathy at that time.

He's in love with Park Jihoon.

 

Guanlin realises this, and blinks a few times, his reaction much calmer than he expected it to be. He should've seen this coming along— nobody ever made him feel things that Jihoon did, and if it wasn't love, Guanlin wouldn't know what it was. He stares at Daehwi weakly.

 

"Welcome to the hellhole of love, Guanlin." Daehwi grins.

 

-

 

The weeks pass by as the Guanlin and Jihoon eventually become the school's number one couple, with whispers and murmuring following them like a shadow wherever they go, and there is not one person who hasn't heard of the both of them. In fact, the school has made it a point to call the duo by their ship name— panwink. Guanlin's not complaining, and he secretly loves it, but no one needs to know that.

And as fast as news spread around the school, it ends too, just mere days later. 

 

This means the end of panwink. And Guanlin's greatest fear is on the verge of coming true. He barely paid attention to the fact that Jihoon has to leave him one day, and they will part ways at one of the many crossroads in life, and subsequently never to meet again.

Guanlin can't do that. 

 

He can swallow down the rejection, if it ever comes, from Jihoon, and he can ignore his feelings for a while, until the bomb explodes, tearing and burning his insides apart, into ashes, but he can't let him out of his life. It's like keeping a fish out of water, and he's going to die without the presence of the elder. The thought leaves Guanlin gasping for air, his vision murky and blurred, and he feels something wet rolling down his cheek, and he knows it's not from the leaking roof above his head.

Guanlin stays like that, half paralysed and caged in his thoughts, until he hears Daehwi screaming and wailing about something, before barging into his room with a slam on the door. The atmosphere must have depression air motes floating around, because the once excited sparkle in his eyes faded away.

"Guanlin? You alright?" Daehwi settles down beside Guanlin gingerly, frowns of concern lining his face.

Guanlin doesn't reply. He doesn't need to, anyways, because he is positive that Daehwi can see through his lies like a glass. So he grabs a fistful of his orange sweater instead, and pours his tears onto it. Daehwi barely flinches, running a comforting hand through Guanlin's hair instead, murmuring condolences into his ears. 

It must've been because of the excessive amount of tears that he emptied, as Guanlin wakes up later to find himself snuggled warmly underneath his covers, and he groggily wraps himself tighter, only to be interrupted by a soft whine beside him.

Guanlin's eye snap open, now fully awake, and takes three seconds to realise that he's in his room, and another three seconds to realise that, to his utmost horror, Park Jihoon is cuddled against his chest. He concludes that he must be the source of the whine. Thinking back, it did sound familiar— Guanlin has long memorised the sound of every consonant rolling off the elder's tongue. 

He smiles at the sight of Jihoon, eyes shut, not a single hair out of place (how does one do that when they're asleep?), his pink lips slightly parted, and his ash black eyelashes resting against the pale skin of his cheekbones.

But reality pulls the ends of his lips down, and crashes onto him like a lead brick, and Guanlin holds back the urge to just run away and escape.

If this was the last time he could admire Park Jihoon in a close proximity, then might as well make full use of it.

And so Guanlin does. He maps out Jihoon's face, every single fibre of his face, into his brain, and locks it up. If anyone ever asks Guanlin if he has a preference in art, his answer would be Park Jihoon, and just as how every other artist paints their work with fine strokes, Guanlin's inclined to believe that every inch of Jihoon's face was created like that too.

When he's finally done, he parts his quivering lips, and whispers the words that has been buried for what feels like aeons, on the tip of his tongue— and he wishes that he would say them at a better time instead of this, but his heart and brain is urging him to say it, and so his mouth obeys. The words roll off his tongue, and ring achingly in their silent, shared space.

 

"I love you."

 

Guanlin feels his body deflate, and a strange sense of relieve surge through his veins. That wasn't supposed to happen, why wasn't he breaking down and crying like all the protagonists in dramas? 

 

Maybe he's given up on Jihoon.

 

One end of his lips quirks up, and he doesn't know if he should be concerned or happy over the fact that he's actually letting Jihoon out of his clutch, letting him slip away so easily, almost as if people like him came frequently. The boy with starry eyes and kissable lips, the boy who never fails to make him smile, the boy whom he fell in love with. Then again, Guanlin has long realised that with love, comes hurt. It adds one to the list of cons of love, other than insecurity. 

 

"I love you so much, but I'm letting you go. That's funny, isn't it?" Guanlin muses out loud, still facing Jihoon's sleeping form.

 

"We all have an ending. All of us, we age, and we turn into frail humans consisting merely of paper-skin over bones, and we die. That's it. The cycle. And this cycle applies itself to every other thing in this world, including my pathetic love for you. I'm going to end it soon, and we'll mourn over its death with our separation." 

Guanlin winces at the pain in his chest, striking him from inside upon every heartbeat, and it's almost unbearable until he forces every single nerve of his body to go numb, just so that he could finish the godforsaken epilogue of their tragic love story.

"Jihoon never knows of Guanlin's love for him, and it was better if he didn't. Guanlin loved the time they've been through, and for once, every new day was indeed something to look forward to. But the both of them were like two like poles of a magnet, and they could never be together," Guanlin takes inhales deeply at this, and he holds on to the only shard of happiness he has left.

"Goodbye, Park Jihoon."

 

The cycle kicks in, and shatters the shard, and a million pieces scatter, much like the tears who have invited themselves to the Ending from Guanlin's eyes. His body shudders, and Guanlin wonders for a moment if this was what torture felt like, with tongues of flames from his inner inferno licking at every single organ of his, unforgiving and unstoppable, while the waves wash over him before dragging him in, and Guanlin panics because he can't breathe, and shuts his eyes tightly before curling his body into a fetal position.

 

"Don't say goodbye."

 

Guanlin's eyes shoot open, and there's Jihoon— tears snaking down his cheeks, and illuminating his eyes, and every single second never passes without the sparkle of a star in his eyes. 

 

"Don't say goodbye, I. I love you too. Don't leave, please just don't, we can be happy together, I promise-"

 

Guanlin finds himself reaching out for Jihoon, hands behind his neck and pulls him closer, until their bodies are pressed feverishly against each other's, and he loves this, just holding him in his arms, and every single constellation being shrunk and fitted into the elder's orbs. Jihoon cups his face, hands warm against his cheek, and Guanlin swears he can see the shadow of love swirling in the deep mass of Jihoon's eyes, and the next thing he registers is another pair of lips on his.

The lips feels familiar, like they were meant to be pressed on his, and Guanlin feels millions of explosions of his nerves, his heart thumping in sync with Jihoon's. Jihoon tilts his head, and he never thought this was possible, but their lips fit right together like two pieces in a puzzle, moulding into one, and Guanlin's breathless again, the all too familiar dizziness of being love struck hitting him. He opens his eyes, and as if Jihoon could feel him, flutters his eyelids open, the twinkle in his irises waltzing around. 

There were too many words, too many emotions to be spoken, and so they conveyed it all through the synchronised movement of their lips, the kiss crackling with passion and tinted with sweetness.

 

"I love you."

 

This time, it's Jihoon who says it again, through his moist, swollen and red lips, and Guanlin feels the bomb explode, filling his heart with the warmest surge of happiness he's ever experienced.

 

-

 

"You what?" Guanlin chokes out, coughing violently on the piece of beef. Opposite him, Jihoon's blushing furiously, and hides his face in his hands.

"I knew it! I always thought something was weird that time, even though I couldn't think of what." Guanlin trails off. Jihoon admitted that he didn't request for the payment of the boyfriend service, with the reason being that he had a feeling Guanlin would end up being his actual boyfriend. No wonder he felt something was missing during that time when they were discussing about administrative things.

Beside them, Jinyoung and Daehwi are cackling (actually, only Daehwi is) and Guanlin's reminded of the day, when they became a couple, and how they partied until the wee hours of the morning. Daehwi had headed to the nearest convenience store to buy one litre full bottles of soda, and tons of snack, and confetti poppers at that. 

"Congratulations for finally curing your emotional constipation!" He had screamed, popping the confetti in Guanlin's face.

Guanlin looks around, at the soft smiles of the three other boys around him, with the warm, orange light shining down on them, and he decides that he won't ever forget this moment, silently adding it to his album of memories.

 

This moment, where he's in love with Park Jihoon, and Jihoon loves him back, and two other boys madly in love with each other— he wouldn't exchange it for anything else.


End file.
